Fools, aren’t we?

A beggar sits on the curb waiting for
A piece of bread, hopefully more
To hide and keep in store
For the cold days that bear the rage of Thor

On the other side is the muffled sound
Of a boy giving his mother the benefit of doubt
That someday she’ll be back
But for now, she is nowhere to be found
And his sadness will become profound

Fools, aren’t we?
We can cross the sea
And we can turn the world into debris
But we can’t help thee
Those who can be

Better than you and me

Months later and it’s still the same
The beggar is there, along with his bane
The boy is older, but there he’ll remain
Waiting for a mother who never came
But his hope is something you cannot explain

Fools, aren’t we?
All this life but we
Aren’t even close to being esprit
We look down at the people, grimly
Thinking we are better, thinking we are nobility
Oh the calamity!

Years later and the street has changed
The beggar is dead, no longer pained
By the hunger and the hate
Those people sustained
Along with a look of disgust, unashamed

But the boy is a man now
His hope is lost and so is the vow
He took to wait for a mother who did not allow
Her heart to accept a son who never knew how
To live but learned how to bow
To the people who condemned thou

Fools, aren’t we?
Yelling at our children, insensibly
“Stay away from them! They have the flea.
They are filth, every one of thee”
But the man was human, wasn’t he?
Just like you and me

We are fools to think we are different
We are simply delinquent
We are fools, proud to be eloquent
We refuse to help the unfortunate and be benevolent
Instead, we watch them starve
And become creatures simply malevolent